


Having It All

by frey



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frey/pseuds/frey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wedding, a party, a missed opportunity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Having It All

**Title:** Having It All  
 **Author:** [](http://frey-at-last.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://frey-at-last.livejournal.com/)**frey_at_last**  
 **Tags:** 30 Rock, Jack/OC, Liz/OC, Jack/Liz  


 

Jack did not get drunk at her wedding - in fact, as far as she could tell he didn't even drink at the reception, and that was odd, but not worrying. He stood in line with all the show business doofs and her cousins on her mom's side, and when he got to them he shook Nate's hand and kissed her on the cheek, smiling. It was, she knew, probably the happiest day of her life, and having him there made it perfect. Complete and perfect. He shook her hand, too, but afterward she held on to it for a few seconds, until he slipped an arm around her back and they half hugged. It was nice. A nice, symbolic memory.

She thanked him for coming.

 

 

When Jack got engaged a few months after Liz got married, she was happy for him. Really. Yet another engagement, but maybe this one would work out. To be honest, Liz didn't know Liesel that well yet, because of being so busy putting on the wedding and then working on TGS while actually having somebody to go home to, but she was sure that they'd get together for dinner in the future, and maybe a few years down the road, their kids would play with each other, if Jack was still on board with having children and if Liesel was okay with that, too, et cetera. (Liesel was only 30, so, not like she didn't have time. But she was also Austrian and had been a model, and maybe they aged on a different timescale. Like, she was marrying a guy over 20 years her senior. Did that say something?)

"Congratulations!" Liz told Jack, when he announced it one morning. Jack was standing in front of the couch in her office, smoothing his tie with one hand and looking at her almost hesitantly.

"And you... think it's a good match?" he asked. Liz, looking at him, thought how continually surprising it was, the way that Jack, of all people, should be so set on getting her opinion of his girlfriends. Even - had he once said it out loud? - her approval. She felt a rush of some feeling and wanted to give it to him - her approval. Whatever assurance he needed.

"Of course," she said. "Maybe we should go out to dinner a few more times, you know, to get to know each other, but she seems great. Very well-traveled. I know you like her a lot."

"Yes," he nodded. "I do. She is extraordinary. I know I first said it of Elisa, and may have been mistaken, but Liesel could be, truly, The One." He paused, with that carefully measured theatrical flair he worked so well. "Time is running out for us, and I don't see how I can pass this by."

"Awesome," she said, "absolutely, we're ticking clocks. I'm happy for you, Jack."

He smiled and cocked his head sideways, in a kind of formal nod. "Thank you."

 

 

He didn't mention the engagement party that day - instead it was about a week later, and he called her at home even though it was barely nine. (It was only 9:06 at night and she was lounging on the couch at home, watching Real Housewives of Beirut, with her _husband_. Her new life was awesome.) He was quick, almost brusque on the phone, but hey - this was Jack. He could pontificate for ten minutes straight, but sometimes his silence said just enough.

"Say hi for me," Nate called, on his way out the door.

"What was that?" Jack's voice said on the phone.

"Oh, Nate says hi," she told him. "He's just running to get us subs."

She expected him to come back with something about nighttime carbo-loading - she'd set it up for him, really - but he didn't say anything for a moment. "Ah. I'll leave you to it, then."

"It's okay," she said. "He'll be a couple minutes, so there's no rush."

"No, it's all right. I'll see you on Friday?"

He got off the phone and she sat for a minute, thinking... thinking, it's good that Jack's engaged. Happiness for her, happiness for her best friend. Yup. That's what life was all about. She held the phone for a few minutes more before she leaned over to hang it back up.

 

 

It had seemed to her like they were on such solid ground with the relationships deal. Not that the party was exactly a bad thing... right. But she couldn't shake the feeling that something was newly unsettled, something that had been shelved a long time ago, with very little fanfare, at least on her end. The idea that Jack could feel differently, that she could have been misreading him completely for who knows how long, was an uncomfortable thing to contemplate. If, in fact, that's what happened at all. It was a weird night.

First off, it was a _big_ party. The hotel ballroom could fit a thousand people, and there may have been exactly that many people there. Parts of Liesel's very complicated extended family. Jack's political friends and acquaintances, Jack's media friends and acquaintances, Jack's political-media friends and acquaintances - even Jon Stewart, because Liesel had asked. Well, better late than never.

Second off, Jack got drunk and wouldn't take his arm off her. Not like he started it up when she arrived - the first hour and a half was surprisingly fun. She said hi to Liesel, she danced with Nate, and spent ten minutes at the food table, until she felt Jack come up behind her and she smiled to hear his voice - and kept smiling a lot. The lighting was just dim enough to take the edge off the discomfort of the press of the crowd. Parties were never her favorite thing, but Jack had a way of putting her at ease with his focus and his smile. She even started feeling loftily benevolent toward the strangers who passed around them.

They stood side by side as they ate shrimp and French cheese, and when he made her laugh she jabbed him - and then the second or third or fourth time, touched his arm, and his back, and when a not-too-fast, not-too-slow song came on, it was completely natural that he stepped back away from the tables, offering his hands to her, and said, "Dance with me." And so they did.

She'd never danced with Jack, not even at her wedding, but it wasn't awkward. They were both maybe a little buzzed on whatever they'd been drinking. (She, for one, had only had wine, but Jack's breath hinted that he'd had something stronger. Maybe it should have been a clue.)

Liesel's brother - step-brother? ex-step-brother? Her half-brother's half-brother, Jack clarified - tried to cut in when the first song ended, but Jack kept his arm around her and waved him off. "My regrets, Niklas; she's married."

"I only wanted to wish you congratulations," said Niklas, recovering rather smoothly. "I hope you will be happy together."

"I know I will be," Jack said. "I'm utterly besotted. We couldn't get enough if it lasted twenty years." Liz, watching his face, felt drawn irresistibly into his mood, his utter confidence and exhilaration. She laughed because she couldn't help it, and tugged at his wrist. "C'mon, guy, enough speeches. We're not done yet."

So they danced one more, then another, and then Liz's feet needed her to sit down. "I gotta find a chair and my husband," she said, when Jack asked to get her a drink. "And you should rescue Liesel from your pack of rivals, am I right?" She was reasonably certain what lady was at the center of the circle of braying 30-something Republican dudes across the room.

"My rivals?" he asked, as if he hadn't noticed. Liz rolled her eyes.

Well, she couldn't find her husband, but she did find a chair, and had a long conversation with Bill Maher which she could not account for in any way. Some lifetime later, after he'd finally spotted someone else, she got a text from Nate, saying he'd been waylaid by Howie Mandel, but was gonna get the car as soon as he got away. "only 11 and nobody's left yet," she replied. Half a minute later her phone beeped: "it's a trap!" She thought either Nate was itching in his fancy suit, or he had work in the morning.

A second later when Jack came by, he wasn't with Liesel, and he had clearly downed a lot more alcohol. For the first time that night, Liz was uneasy.

"Lemon," he blurted, interrupting her mid-text. His face was animated but kind of sloppy around the edges, reminding her uncomfortably of the night all those years ago with the hooker and Tracy's motel room. He set a glass down on the table to her left, and she stepped into her shoes and rose, cautiously. "Hey, Jack."

"Lemon, do you remember when we met?" He leaned into her space and seemed to be thinking about where to put his hands.

"Uh, yeah," she said. His palm landed on her shoulder, but when she went to redirect it, he gripped her hand and drew it toward his chest. It was sort of like the dancing earlier, except, well, they weren't moving. "You hated me, didn't you?" he said, lowering his voice.

"Kinda," said Liz. "But that was over quick."

"I thought you were such a mess," he smirked, but his eyes were warm and she thought she saw sober-Jack in there somewhere, making her heart pound a surprising flush to her brain. He was so incredibly familiar, even like this. "And now look at you."

"I'm still mostly a mess," she got out.

Jack laughed and his whole face got younger. "Yes, mostly," and his arm had come around her lower back again, "but not the same. Or maybe it's me that has changed."

Liz was only a breath away from the broad shoulder of his tux, and pressed her face against him, feeling his arms tighten for a long minute. They hugged, for no apparent reason but that it felt right. A group of laughing Thurston Howell IIIs passed behind Jack, and Liz drew back a little, trying to catch his eyes. He was looking at her... in a way she couldn't put a name to. She hesitated for a second, smelling his cologne and feeling the way his chest moved with each breath. "You are drunk, sir."

"I'm a little tipsy," he allowed.

"Well, I think we're gonna take off in a few minutes."

They were surrounded by another chattering clump of people just as Jack's face went unreadable - well, a slack, drunk sort of unreadable. "We?"

"Yeah, Nate texted me a little bit ago. I'm pretty sure he has a class to teach in the morning."

"Jack!" Some toupee-wearing dude grabbed Jack by the shoulder and twisted him to the right. "I heard the news about Morty Sheinhardt!"

"It's not even midnight," Jack said. She tried to extract herself from under his arm and didn't succeed.

"Zucker doesn't have the balls."

Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her purse. "Jack -"

"Just a little while longer?" The noise around them made her instinctively lean in. They inched just a little behind the group of NBC dudes, back toward the wall. Jack was all around her - she felt the trill of a fight or flight response and gripped her phone.

"I gotta go, Jack. Okay?" His face was so close to hers. "Happy engagement."

"Lemon - " His grip got tighter around her waist for a long beat. Then it loosened. "Liz," he said, and leaned in and kissed her on the side of the neck.

"Woah," was all she could manage. He really was super drunk.

"I love you," he said, meeting her eyes.

"I love you, too," she said. "Of course. I love you, Jack." God, somehow it came out twice and her mouth liked saying it. It struck her that she never had said it before.

And though it should have been another careful moment of shared affection, Jack was withdrawing his body from hers and changing his expression, until he looked at her from a couple feet away, and she couldn't see him in his eyes. "Happy engagement," she said again, stupidly.

"Thank you." Jack slid his hand off her arm, the last place they were touching, and turned halfway to reach the scotch glass on the table where he had left it. "I'm pretty drunk," he said, as thoughtfully as Jack could say something when he was truly pretty drunk.

"I know," Liz said. "You should head home soon, too. Maybe." She realized it felt odd telling him what to do, and stopped.

"Maybe," he said.

Just in the nick of time, as was his way, Nate appeared at her elbow. "Hey, hon, I got the car ready."

"Okay. I'm all set." Nate stepped forward and searched for Jack's free hand - they shook.

"Congrats again on your engagement," Nate said, his face earnest as ever. Liz hoped fervently that he hadn't been able to see them a minute ago through the crowd. It wasn't really awkward, she told herself, just seen from the outside, maybe. To someone who didn't understand their particular thing. But Nate understood her thing with Jack, right - she'd explained it to him? She felt she must have. Still, she found herself avoiding meeting his eyes.

"Thank you," Jack said. "I appreciate it."

When Liz glanced up, Jack was looking at her again. She tried to say goodnight, but when her mouth opened, nothing came out. Nate casually took her elbow.

"Goodnight, Lemon," Jack said, the moment passing between them and out through her hands. They both turned away.

 

 

"Geez, what a night," Nate said in the parking garage. "Jack was enjoying himself."

Liz reached the passenger side door and looked at him over the car. "Was he?"

He looked at her quizzically. "Didn't you ask?"

She supposed she didn't.


End file.
